


Discolouration

by thawrecka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-05
Updated: 2004-01-05
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thawrecka/pseuds/thawrecka
Summary: Some nebulous moment in sixth year. Harry is disgusted, by mendacity as much as everything else.





	Discolouration

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even like Harry/Snape all that much so I don't know why I wrote it, but it's probably because I was a young edgelord of the most tedious variety when I wrote it. At least this version has apostrophes.

Harry looked at that horrible sneering face, at the malicious glint in Snape's eyes and the dark circles underneath. Snape's teeth were yellow and his lips thinned by years of anger, his tongue lazy and slimy in that horrible mouth. His hair was more dark and horrible than an oil spill and that slick shine covered his face. The paleness of Snape's skin and the harshly cutting bones of his cheeks and hands made him look cadaverous.

Snape looked smug, his face twisted with his small triumph over a skinny boy.

Snape disgusted Harry so much that he could feel it, hard and round and obstinate at the back of his throat. It was almost overwhelming, and in that moment Harry wanted Snape. Wanted to strike him, tear his hideous eyes out and press this feeling into Snape's waxy skin. Wanted to tear curling strips from his back and to make him taste this feeling, flesh to flesh.

Lust settled on his tongue, bitter in his mouth, and Harry wasn't sure whether he hated Snape or himself more.

"We're going to die," Harry said.

He knew this, sure as the grass was green. He didn't say this to other people, though he felt it day by day. All their hopes rested on him and he felt useless.

Every time Voldemort forced his way into Harry's mind - and he wasn't getting any better at keeping him out - he felt violated, torn open, his mouth moving against his will, his head screaming against the invader. His limbs always felt like misshapen lumps of lead and a fire started beneath his skin and behind his eyes that turned everything into a blur. It hurt so much he wanted to die.

What Snape thought of this he did not say, just stared at Harry like an ingredient yet to be harvested.

"I hope it hurts," Harry said. "I hope you scream when you die. I hope you die knowing that you've failed and everything is ruined."

"Enough of this nonsense, Mr Potter," Snape ordered, the edges of the words sharpened through his teeth.

"Will you care when I'm dead? Do you think anyone will bury me? Will there even be enough of me left?" Harry asked his fingers and the glassy space before his eyes.

"Potter..."

"Will it matter?" Harry looked at Snape, who looked desperately uncomfortable. "I hate you," he said laughing. "I hate you."

Snape moved, perhaps to get away, and Harry moved towards him. He grabbed Snape by the collar and ignored the hands pushing at his elbows, his chest, wishing him away. Harry gripped tight with furious fingers and did not let ago.

"I hate you so much," Harry hissed, and kissed Snape.

Snape tasted like vinegar. His skin was tough and unforgiving against the slip of Harry's tongue. It seemed he would not yield.

Snape still pushed ineffectually against Harry (though Snape was a grown man and strong). Harry's hands moved up to Snape's neck and gripped at the skin there, torn nails scraping amongst Snape's hair. His teeth bit at Snape's lips, the skin around his mouth.

Snape stopped fighting and opened to Harry with a whimper, a capitulation. His tongue was like a slug against Harry's, a writhing slug. Snape's hands moved around to clutch at Harry's lower ribs with crushing force.

This was revenge, only Harry wasn't sure whose. 

Their lips slipped against each other and Harry wasn't sure how to breathe in a kiss because he hadn't done this much before. He felt like he was going to asphyxiate.

Harry pushed Snape away with a struggle. Snape's eyes were open and wet and wrong. Harry gulped roughened air into his lungs. His lips felt bigger than they should be.

"You're pathetic," he spat at Snape, and then ran.


End file.
